


It's a Little Easier With Somebody Else

by PairofPoots



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PairofPoots/pseuds/PairofPoots
Summary: Bentley Adrianne Rook, Raccoon City's Community Liason. Stationed at Raccoon City Police Department because where else were they gonna put her? When the outbreak goes to hell and a handbasket, Benny's just coming out of a three day sleep binge. So, she makes her way to the RPD to help. To find friends that stayed behind? How goes it in the end?This is a Resident Evil 2 Remastered rewritten with Bentley coming in to aide in Claire and Leon's escape from Raccoon City.





	1. Prologue

****Bentley****

Several days huddled under a series of comforters and blankets doesn't make for a refreshing feeling once you finally decide to wake up. Bentley groaned at the cacophony of noise on all her shared thin apartments walls, from the city beyond her curtained small enough to squeeze through bedroom window, and she thinks at one point while hazily tripping over her favorite boots and swearing, scratching at her door.

Probably just a neighbor's dog snuffling at her door. Again.

Her swearing intensified out loud when her bathroom light wouldn't shudder to life like usual. "I pay my goddamn bills. Fuck this shithole building, for fucks sake." This was not a good start to her non-day and the banging and other disturbing but, in her opinion, not entirely unusual noise from both of her neighbors didn't help either.

So, Bentley regrettably got ready for work in the dark. On a side note grateful for her tastes to match without having to see and that membership to that bulk store where she buys enough of her favorite granola bars in one go to last a year. The only worry at the moment was her mess of dark curls, that was for sure everywhere currently, as she tore into her first bar leaning on the kitchen counter.

Scavenging for a good hair tie in the dark would be a disaster. Resting her chin one hand and taps softly on the counter, chewing and finally realizing she owned a good flashlight, part of an emergency kit. It was shoved on her as a gift from Lieutenant Branagh when he found out she lived alone. Apparently, he never met the small and sweet family that lived on one side and the crotchety old Ladythat lived on the other.

Bentley barely got the flashlight turned on and a non-ruined hair tie from her junk drawer when her front door began shaking, rattling, and banging on it's hinges like someone or something wanted in badly. She twisted her hair up swiftly and effortlessly. Moving towards the door, in retrospect, is a bad idea but she did anyway.

To peer out the peephole.

What she saw scared her enough to bring her near to tears. She backed away from the door until she hit her couch, hand over mouth that barely covered her now escalated breathing. It was Teresa from across the hall but, then again it wasn't. All of Teresa's vibrancy and friendliness was gone. Skin was a horrible blue pale pallor and gaunt against her bone structure as if she had been dead for awhile. But, she was up against the door throwing herself against it and now making an ear shattering screech that made Bentley flinch and sob.

Another bang and rattle.

Bentley started again but this time she took a breath and at least calmed enough of her nerves to breathe normally. She had to leave and she knew where she had to go, it wouldn't be long before no-longer-Teresa-from-across-the-hall would bust through and Bentley did not want have to deal with that. At least right now.

Another breath and she was moving now with purpose, snatching her work bag and the previously thought useless survival kit (flashlight included). Bentley removed frivolous and unnecessary things from her bag, instead shoving the kit, granola bars galore, and at least three water bottles she kept under her sink for whatever reason she really couldn't fathom. Two twenty-four packs? Why? Probably a sale or something. Once again grateful for her own foolishness.

The door banged and rattled on it's hinges making her shoulders flinch as she strode into the bedroom, she shook her head. This isn't happening. Flinging open her curtains only confirmed that it was indeed happening. With the special added benefit of the typical mid-fall storm that enjoys plaguing Raccoon City this time of the year. Sighing heavily Bentley momentarily dropped her bad, gripping the flashlight with her knees, and shrugged on the one size too big sweatshirt that resided amongst her blankets and sheets.

Bentley pried the barely human sized window open with a huff and immediately became aware of just how bad things were. The noise level was suffocated by the actual decent window, who knew? She could smell the smoke of fires burning, hear explosions in the distance, and of course the not so lovely chorus of groans and moans of the monsters that littered the street just out of view of the fire escape. A heavy sigh heaved through her entire being, she was going to have a bad time.

Despite that realization she still plopped her bag onto the fire escape, the flashlight placed carefully and securely on top, before pushing herself out into the chilly downpour. Momentarily glad for layers in socks and shirts, began the descent. Pointedly ignoring the windows of her once neighbors or dodging a grabby bloody hand that had seen better days when it's owner was properly alive and lively. If she wasn't keen on getting to work Bentley probably would ponder currently what exactly was causing the literal apocalypse. But, nay, she knew she was probably needed at the police station and surviving the trek there had to be a priority. She was smart enough to know that, at least.

Unlocking the ladder that led to the alleyway below was a disaster. Bentley forgot after undoing the latch that the one thing her landlord did do was keep the fire escape healthy and up to code. Probably so he couldn't be sued if the building ever suddenly combusted. She swore under her breath with a flinch at the noise of the ladder sliding down and clanging to a stop about ten feet off the ground. Not waiting for anything or anyone, Bentley shuffled her flashlight in a secure pocket, and made sure the bag was secure before finally scrambling down said ladder.

What happened next felt like a scene in an horrible horror movie, and Bentley supposed she was in one now, first one foot lost it's footing. That was enough to startle her to lose the grip she had on the wet metal and down she went. Back first bouncing onto, a thankfully closed, dumpster and tossed with a yelp front first, braced by forearms, onto the sopping wet alley floor. The smell of rotting garbage and the heavy smell of blood mixed, Bentley decided this was the worst smell in the world. She stood on shaky legs, but uninjured from the fall, coughing and trying her best to swallow the retching. There was no time for a respite.

"GAH!" She yelped as shambling zombie grabbed onto the loose fabric of her sweater. Brown eyes widened in panic as this thing pulled unnaturally strongly at her, almost in winning this mini horrible game of tug-o-war. Bentley sharply yanked herself free, regaining her footing and allowing her to jog away to relative safety. There was no safe place in Raccoon City anymore.

The travel through the lengthy alley was surprisingly uneventful, nay hiding easily from a moaner and groaner before moving on. Zombies, huh? This was shit you watched at the movies or read in cheesy sci-fi horror comics, right? This wasn't supposed to happen in reality. To actual people. Before her thought process could make her grieve in a smelly alley it opened up into the street.

It was a mess.

Accidents everywhere. Just as many zombies just mulling about waiting for a snack to come around. Fires burned in every direction. Raccoon City was in fiery disgusting shambles. Bentley would mourn for it, if she already didn't know it was a shithole to begin with. Just last month a giant sinkhole took out an entire block of the city, for fuck's sake. Bentley huffed quietly to herself keeping her heavy flashlight aloft but off. She didn't know if the zombs could see the light and she wasn't going to take any chances.

The path she had to take was a short one. Well, it'd be short because Bentley planned on running it. Or at least a healthy jog, the zombies were dumb and slow. Another tired sigh before taking off and right at the strip of barricaded cars, there wasn't time to make fun of them openly sadly. Over the barricade and onto the roofs of the empty-ish cars. A few of them had zombies comically hanging half out of them like dogs stuck in peanut butter jars. Hopping down the other side of the barricade she jogged and dodged at surprised and hungry lunges, going straight for a little space of greenery.

Uneventful, thankfully, Bentley pushed into a line of tall evergreens and bushes emerging pressed onto a very familiar wall. It was the East side of the RPD. Glass crunched into the soaked soil underneath boots that shifted as quietly as possible. The last thing she needed was to be cornered. It was another minute of internally cursing at storm that continued to pick up by the second whipping tree branches at her and rain into her vision. Casting her vision down, soon enough there was a gap that said window. A window that was no longer there. Bentley had planned on scooting until she found the door but, this would be easier. Faster too.

Hoisting herself feet first onto what felt like stable floor and not squishy soil or smelly alleyways. Completely in all she could take in before slipping and falling on her ass was that it was dark and the East Office door was, for some reason, chained shut. Bentley's eyes screwed shut as she took in a deep calming breath, which lasted nowhere near as long as it should have, when she smelled the heavy nasty smell of blood. Brown eyes snapped open and she scrambled to her feet fast. Flashlight was finally clicked on. Her throat tightened and chest twisted at the sight. She was standing in what looked like a horrific murder scene, had slipped and fell in it too, Bentley couldn't stop the tears now. She was crying.

This shit had spilled inside the police department and it tore it apart from the looks of it. Bentley grieved taking steps away from motionless bodies to lean against the wall. She had walked these halls regularly. Was friends with a good portion of the easy going officers. Jesus, how many were still here? Scrubbing at her cheeks with her sleeves, Bentley decided it was time to move on. Crying pitifully in a pools of somebody else's and quite possibly a friend or more's blood wasn't going to solve anything. Didn't stop the heartache though.

So, she walked slowly running the flashlight's beam to and fro. Every nerve and hair on Bentley was on edge. She didn't like the dark. Hated it. Hated it even more when anything could be lurking around a corner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bentley's survival of Raccoon City continues.

Bentley stopped walking when the hall narrowed because, of all the junk piled against the walls. Worried brows cinched together tightly as she struggled once more to swallow fear and bile. There was no time to let those fester. Not when water, only god knows from where, so high it obscured the once prim vintage tile.

"I take a few days off and the city just implodes on itself. What the shit..." muttered to herself moving and slogging slowly through the water. She wanted to be as quiet as possible, she didn't want to be the one to break the silence. Nor to see what happens when it does break.

Heart caught in her throat as she shimmed against the wall moving around the bodies mucking up the ankle deep water with all kinds of nasty. Bentley clicked her tongue in disgust as a piece of whatever floated by on the little waves her movements made. She was never going to be curious enough to know that was or where it came from.

Bentley kept moving against the wall, mostly to avoid the bodies and floating bits around them, and eventually turned the corner. The slogging through water stilled as eyes caught the light at the end of the hall. The shudder was down? Just not all the way down... Open enough to let her know the power in the main hall was still working. Enough of a comfort to jog towards the partly opened shudders.

The splattered blood against the floor and walls were pointedly ignored as Bentley tried to hoist the shudder open more which, unfortunately, wouldn't budge higher than just below mid shin. Dropping onto her knees Bentley peered though the opening into the main hall. Seeming empty, and well lit, made for an invitation. Shrugging off her bag in one quick motion and shoved it with enough force through the gap to give Bentley a small swell of pride in the distance it got as it slid.

"Nice." she said to herself crawling and dragging through the gap, frustration at the minor difficulty turning pride into a deep frown and a visible pout. All in all, Bentley was out of the dark and tired. She sat up and onto her legs to just deflate at the scene around her.

It told the story of what went on while she slept. Heart dropped into what felt like her knees as Bentley finally and slowly stood up. Whatever hope she had of finding her coworkers alive and unmaimed dwindled with every step in the brightly lit but eerily silent Main Hall, not even the storm raging outside could be heard.

A defeated sigh left her as she hefted her bag lazily onto her shoulder. Bentley continued towards the Goddess Statue that heralded the entire Main Hall, eyes glossing over buckets full of bloodied bandages and corners stacked halfway up the wall with cots. She knew just from looking what the station tried to do but, there's only so much luck to be had in Raccoon City. They apparently ran the legs out from under Lady Luck these past few days.

"Rook?" The sound of somebody's voice breaking the silence to address her just as she came into full view of the statue startled Bentley. A very familiar, but also pained in a way, voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very wordy and don't want the chapters of this fic to be too long. I did tag ships because they will happen. Just be patient with me! 
> 
> Bentley is not a cop. She's hired through the city directly as a kind of voice for the community. She's just congenial enough to befriend the kinder of cops of the RPD. She also knows things. Only a couple of things. She is not terribly smart.


	3. Chapter 3

"Lieutenant Branagh!" Bentley said with such astonishment that it almost created an echo but still made her flinch at the volume.

Too large quick steps and she was crouched at the side of couch the Lieutenant painfully lounged on. She was happy to see him but, not in this condition.

"You slept through the evacuation orders, huh? Or did they not make it to your shitty building?" Bentley face screwed up into a frown at the obviously injured and in pain Lieutenant. Even in his condition he found the reason to chastise her living conditions.

"You're really going to go there, huh? Sitting in front of me, injured, and in an empty police station that's only inhabitants seem to want to eat the living? Hmm?"

Lieutenant Branagh stared back at Bentley and it was a moment of serious frowning and smug eyebrow raising before they broke out in laughter. Or in his case pained chuckling and a heavy grimace.

"Don't make me laugh, Rook. I was in a tussle and I hesitated. That's all you get."

Branagh's word was law around here. At least in Bentley's case. One of the few officers she listened to on the daily. Not even Chief Irons could get her to behave. So, she pouted and sat heavily on her legs. There wasn't going to be a push for what happened, her mind could develop the scenario itself. She already knew the kind of person Lieutenant Branagh is, and that is to know what possibly could have made him hesitant. Bentley tried to swallow around the lump that had formed in her throat,

"You're hurt. You just can't expect me to not care..." She spoke softly concern flowing off her in waves, softening her expression at her friend who seemed to lose the color and vibrancy in him by the minute they sat together.

"I know you care, kid. But, this isn't the kind of situation where caring wins." His hand that was previously clicking through surveillance footage affectionately patted her shoulder. "Any situation that involves getting me to hospital is going to end badly, Rook. I can tell that you know this. And, General shut down two days ago."

An indignant and melodramatic sigh left the younger woman. "Evacuation Orders." muttered under her breath as a tired explanation. "God, do you have to be so honest with me, Branagh? What if I don't want to leave? Maybe we can call somebody, right? The long distance radios have to be working?"

"No, the fuck you aren't. You don't know how to use those radios. You're gonna help Redfield and escape this shithole building through the statue tunnel." His voice held no room for argument and Bentley would still have, had she not recognized the name.

"Wait. Hold up. Redfield is back in town? As in I take my job too seriously to make friends outside of the S.T.A.R.S office 'Redfield'?" Bentley was now leaning and half whispering at the Lieutenant who was busy watching the surveillance transfixed but still listening.

"No. Chris' sister. Apparently, Chris got and took his leave without saying a word about anything to her. So, she came to the City looking for him. Arrived like ten minutes before you." He said like it was no big deal but then sighed like he would do when she would do something dumb.

"What? I didn't do anything. I'm just sitting here actually behaving myself." She said holding up her hands innocently.

"No. Not you. It looks like my rookie showed up anyway."

She leaned over the officer to get a look at the surveillance that indeed showed a man about her age investigating the courtyard's gate door. "The first new hire this year? Fresh from the academy. I bet he's having a really bad first day." Bentley then stood stretching and refastening her bag to herself.

"Let me get Claire back here. You're definitely not going, especially not alone, considering you're unarmed." He grimaced in pain and Bentley surged forward to let him brace his balance against her. The last thing he needs is to pitch forward to fall on the marble floor, it wouldn't make anything any better.

Before she could admonish him for trying to stop her but was silenced by him finally somewhat relaxed and clicking his radio making that call to Claire. Apparently she had a walkie.

A bit unfair.

"Claire, could you make it back here. There's been an update or two that you need to know."

Bentley barely heard the other woman's affirmative over a tired sigh. There wasn't much she could do until Claire got here and for once she was going to mind Lieutenant Branagh's entire order. Without a weapon, in this situation, in this mess of a building? It would be a disaster waiting to happen. Bentley quite enjoyed being unchewed on. At least by the undead and in a consuming kind of way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are happening now.


	4. Chapter 4

Silence sat contently for about thirty whole seconds until Bentley got antsy and started clicking her tongue. She stretched tall and stared up at the immense statue that loomed over the two. It was one of the few good things about the building. Hell, all the still existing art was of the few good things about working in the RPD day to day. It dawned in that moment, staring into the stoic face of an uncaring marble goddess, on the young woman just how much of her life was in shambles and would need rebuilding, that is to say if she survived.

Bentley's thoughts almost indulged in those thoughts with a memory montage of friends and good times had in this dump of a city. She shook it away. Yes, things will be different but, right now survival was the focus here. And, hell and high water, Bentley was determined to get out of Raccoon City in one piece and not a meal for the undead. And, to remain in one whole piece Bentley knew she needed a tool or more to make it a tad smidgen easier.

Hands perched on her hips she turned back towards the Lieutenant. "If I'm going to be helping Claire. At least give me the code to the gun lockup. I'm sure me and Claire could use any of it... Not to mention regulation, hint hint, isn't a thing anymore since, hint hint, the entire city has combusted."

Lieutenant Branagh looked to her, his face ill and deathly pale scarily so that it hurt to see, but still somehow conveyed with one look how with every passing moment she speaks to him that he finds her absolutely absurd. "I can't. Irons had all that blocked off when everything was coming to a head. At first it made sense but, the less of us left... It became dangerous too fast to try and get around the barricades." He spoke tiredly drags his gaze away from her to lean against the back of the couch heavily. "There should be a bat up front. You know, the one Louise hid behind the counter?"

"Well, fuck. Does Irons do anything beyond make things inconvenient and being a creepy fuck... Hmph. Figures, she'd have a weapon back here. Paranoid as all hell. Interrogated anyone without official ID." She spoke smiling at the memory of the slightly unhinged front attendant. Bentley kneeled and rummaged through the mess at the front counter. "Didn't like the look of those second graders lookin' to eyeball our statues. AH-HA found you-" And just as she stood pulling the kinda heavy but wieldable aluminum bat, the door that led to the West Office opened with a swing just feet away from her.

A triumphant grin reigned as she rejoined the Lieutenant to meet and greet Claire, who was now striding towards them with purpose. Bentley felt the determination radiate off her and in response the trepidation about surviving eased just a bit. Determination in spades with an even larger dose of attractive? She was definitely a Redfield.

Triumph turned to charm and Bentley turned towards the other woman her free hand aloft for Claire.

"Must be Claire. I'm Bentley... I'd explain what I'm doing here but I'm afraid it'll make me look dumb."

"Pfffbbb." Came the Lieutenant with a smirk. "I think she'll see that soon enough, Rook."

Bentley only offered the man an indignant look before returning her smile to Claire, who returned it as she gripped the offered hand and shook.

"Yep. Claire Redfield. I'd say nice to meet you but, the circumstances aren't exactly nice. Kinda fucked all around. So, you're the issue? You're a little less than a couple though." Claire said with lifted brows and Bentley nodded.

"Yes and no. If you asked Branagh any other time he would tell you I'm enough of a problem for a lifetime." Bentley's grin faded as she spoke, her gaze shifting from Claire back to the diminishing Lieutenant. "There's another not-zombie who made it here in one piece. A not-zombie who was supposed to be a baby cop in training."

Despite her words, concern furrowed her brow. It's only been minutes since they came across the live security feed but, in these kind of situations things can change so drastically.

"His name is Leon Kennedy. Was supposed to be my rookie. Gave him instructions to stay away when shit started a few weeks ago. Apparently he takes a leaf out of Rook's book and just ignores everything anyone tells him." There was pointed look at Bentley from the Lieutenant as he finished speaking and their attention was dragged to Claire who seemed to perk up at the mere mention of the stranger's name.

"He's alive! He made it alright!" Her smile was contagious and Bentley bit back the urge to be amused at Claire's enthusiasm and she seemed to catch the inquisitive look from the Lieutenant instead. "Uh, we got into the city together and got separated. Supposed to meet up here. Almost thought..."

Bentley knew the unspoken words that worried Claire's teeth to her cheek but didn't speak what was supposed to be the unfathomable. Making new friends shouldn't come with the added bonus of worrying over the fact they might not make it through the night.

Rocking on her boots slightly Bentley rested a reassuring hand for a moment on the other woman's shoulder. "He's still lingering around the courtyard. If he made it here unmaimed, he'll still be there when we get down there."

"If you two are going, gonna have to head through the upstairs office. You know the way, Rook." Lieutenant Branagh's voice became even more strained than it had been and it had Bentley gently pushing the man into laying down, only allowing him a moment place the laptop elsewhere.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Bentley whispered her goodbyes to the Lieutenant. Hazel eyes stung but she didn't cry, even at the mere thought he was probably the last of her friends left alive and he wasn't going to be that way for very long. Gently patting his shoulder she walked away enough so that she stood facing the way they needed to go.

Brushing a stray curl from her face she gestured towards Claire to come along. "C'mon, Claire. Let's go get your friend before he becomes a snack."

"I'm right behind you!" Was the response and Bentley sighed to herself sobering from her usual upbeat mood.

It was getting increasingly harder to smile and stay positive after the evening she was having. She hadn't waited for the other to catch up and was half way up the stairs in silence when Claire got to her side and broke the silence.

"So, you're a cop, huh? You don't seem old enough to be seasoned like the Lieutenant?"

Bentley coughed a laugh and shook her head. "I'm not a cop. That'd be dangerous, nobody should want that. Me? In uniform? HA!" A soft smile echoed on her face now at the mere thought.

"Then, what do you do?" Claire sounded actually curious and Bentley turned a sweet appreciative smile to the other woman.

"What I did. I was a Community Liaison. I basically helped bridge the gaps that naturally happen between the Police, the city government, and the people. It's a lot, or was, a lot of talking." She sighed as the last words trailed off. The minutes ticked by and all the more clearer that her life, as it once was is in shambles.

They finished climbing the stairs and turned, she let her hands trail along the railing fingertips remembering the feeling of lacquered wood and the grain of old masonry. She tried to commit to memory in a moment of self pity but like anything right now it was interrupted. By a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. All of this must be so hard for you. Your entire life, just upended by the fucking apocalypse." Claire's sincerity brought Bentley back to the now gently from her self-pity party, with a small smile she patted Claire's warm hand.

"Don't apologize for this shit. I'm alright. Can't wallow too much when ya should be focused on surviving, right?"

"Yeah, crying might attract the zombs for a snack."

"Ooh, true!" And both women laughed softly as they came upon the door that lead to the East Office waiting room.

Going inside the little room was like shutting out all noise, even from the near silent Main Hall. A pit fell in each woman's gut, neither of them liked this. Silence never meant good tidings. Almost like a groan right behind you might mean snack time and not the fun good kind, either.

"I don't like it." Bentley said sharing a near identical grimace with Claire who nodded in agreement.

"Too goddamn quiet."

Bentley tightened her grip on her bat but then leaning it against the wall when a green herb caught her eye. The eerie silence momentarily forgotten, Claire seemingly having the same idea begun investigating behind the counter and around as Bentley harvested the useful leaves and branches from the plant into an empty pocket of her bag.

Claire was already unlocking the door to move on by the time Bentley had re-situated herself with bat in hand and nodded ready as she could be.

The hallway they entered one after the other was not in the condition that the others were in. Both young women sighed internally both shaking off what little tension this bit of unknown had welled inside them.

Bentley breathed and looked to the left. The Art Room. She took a step towards it. Yeah, normally it only stored the art the PD couldn't and wouldn't display but considering how everything is so wild now... Doors locked, resources hidden behind barricades, and shutters down in the midst of exit hallways... Perhaps there was something useful in there?

She took another small step and gently held Claire's free hand in her own. "I'm gonna go check the art room for anything useful. Go on ahead, I won't be long behind." Bentley released Claire's hand but she took another grip onto Bentley's forearm as she went to move.

"No, wait! We should stick together." Claire spoke firmly at her, brow creased in determination. A look Bentley had seen before and now figured it must be a genetic Redfield thing.

"You know when you make that face you look like your brother." Bentley gave Claire a grin that tried to convey things were fine, even if they weren't or wouldn't be.

"Look, it's just right there. The room itself isn't that big and I'll be out and right behind you. If something happens and I can't be? You can find me with the Lieutenant in the Main Hall, alright?" Bentley said with a gentle reassuring lilt, once again resting her hand against the fingers that fingers that gripped her tightly but after a moment released her.

"I-- Fine. Just don't be in there too long. We all should get out of this city alive. Together."

Bentley gave Claire a wink and walked to said room, turning the thankfully unlocked knob. "Go on and look to Leon, Claire. Don't worry you pretty head over me for the next couple of minutes. I'll be right behind you in a blink."

There wasn't a response from Claire but, Bentley swore that she blushed as she turned away from her and entered the dimly lit small room. She smiled to herself as she raked her eyes over the covered paintings and the statue that overlooked the room from the far wall.

The statue looked as if it belonged in the same group as The Goddess who overlooked the Main Hall. Statues always overlooking some kind of space. Bentley frowned in the marble lifeless eyes of the statue for a moment, only to have her attention dragged away by an loud buzzing noise.

The noise didn't last long, coming to a head as a loud crash shook the building and threw Bentley forward so hard she had to catch herself, dropping her bat at the first jolt, against the little antique end table. Her breath caught in surprise and fear, eyes focused onto the tabletop and an access card that would be useful. Once the shaking stopped reverberating up her spine.

Claire and Leon.

Bentley cursed under her breath and shoved herself upright, ignoring her own shaking, shoved the keycard into her bag, and with a wobbly start lounged out the door, but not forgetting her only means of protection on the way. Into the hallway she ran the only way Claire could have gone. She bustled out the exit and stopped dead at what she saw as the wind and rain whipped at her, soaking her skin and hair almost immediately.

A helicopter. A helicopter had crashed disastrously into the building. The storm must have brought them down and they looked like a search and rescue. Swallowing the lump in her throat that was grief for that crew and the slight nagging fear that she was going to die here in this city on fire, she begun loping down the metal staircase.

Relief was palpable as she came upon Claire and the young man who must be Leon on the other side of the fencing. Bentley smiled widely at the two standing almost close to smell each other through the woven metal. Leon was far prettier than the grainy security camera gave him credit for. She came down from the stairs to Claire's left effectively breaking the two's conversation and from the red in their faces, flirting too.

Bentley smiled like a cat cornering two pretty birds in a corner. "Sorry, I interrupted you two but, we need to get a move on. We can all flirt when we're not in danger of being eaten and-or violently smashed by falling aircraft."

Their reactions were near identical offended and aghast at her assumptions and she would have laughed if not for the fact the helicopter decided to explode causing both Bentley and Claire yelp and curse as they stumbled away from the blaze hanging onto each other.

"Shit."

"Fucking hell--" Cursed Bentley as she shook at the door that should have let Leon join them. "WHY ARE ALL THE IMPORTANT DOORS FUCKING LOCKED??"

Then, there were fingers trying to touch her for comfort through the links or to distract enough that panicking had to wait.

"This isn't a time to lose our heads. We'll get out. Together." Leon talked to her like they were already friends even when they didn't know each other's names. It worked enough to distract her enough to breathe and to think sense.

Bentley breathed and heard Claire trying to radio the Lieutenant, the silence on the other end made her stomach roll, and when looked to Leon's face she sighed. She was still scared the shaking of her hands belayed that but he was right.

"Name's Bentley, I already know you're Leon. The entire P.D. was antsy for your arrival before everything went to shit." She swallowed bile as she watched zombies shuffling towards the three of them. "We're working on a way we found to get out, it's through the Main Hall and under the Goddess statue... Back that way, the groundskeeper's office. He kept the an extra set of keys for everything here in there."

She shoved away from the fence and nodded, stepping back to Claire's side to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. Reassuring for who? Probably for the both of them.

"You two get a move on. We're all gonna get out of here. Alive. I promise."

He held his gun up the same time as Claire dragged her attention to the chained door and the bolt cutters sitting serendipitously in a toolbox right there next to said door.

"I got this." Without even saying anything else Claire picked up the cutters and with a tad bit of effort cut through the chains.

"That was hot." The words just fell out of her mouth like it was the most natural thing to say when death was groaning, moaning, and chewing on your friends.

"What?" Claire was red in the face and perplexed as the situation probably should have made Bentley but she was not.

Her own soft blush on her cheeks Bentley brushed close enough to Claire to tell the other woman's eyes were blue and gave a smile as she began turning the door knob.

"You heard me." She uttered quietly and staring Claire straight in the face who's perplex turned back to the normal determination but more something else, just enough something else that caught Bentley's throat for a moment.

She winked and turned away to go through the door, good humor lost and sighed heavily as Claire came to her side.

"Ugh, right back where I started."

"Same."

Both women looked to each other and laughed but them immediately stopped as something ruined the moment by moaning as they kind of fell through the window clumsily.

"It's okay, buddy, I fell too."


	6. Chapter 6

"It’s okay, buddy, I fell too."

 

Bentley laughed at her own joke, ignoring the fact Claire didn’t join her. Gaze flickered to the chained door just behind the now shifting upwards monster who had it’s full attention on them both now. She sobered and took a quiet calming breath, they had to keep moving.

 

Gripping the bat now in both hands so tight her knuckles whitened from the strain. Every fiber of her being right now was scared and if Bentley thought too much on it, she was getting tired from all of this. Already. But, instead of shaking in her now ruined boots, she squared up with the zombie for whom held it’s gaping, dead, and unseeing eyes on her.

 

She swung. Hard. The thwap of the bat meeting skull seemed to echo through the hall to their right, effectively unnerving both herself and Claire at the same time. But, Bentley shook as her arms not even half heartedly absorbed the shock of the impact. It stung and she muttered curses seeing that all she could muster was knocking the zombie back on it’s ass half dazed.

 

"Fuck." Regret and frustration etched her deep frown but getting distracted by her own physical ineptitude let her lose sight of Claire.

 

Who had used Bentley's actions to move onto the chained door with the cutters. She had finished clipping through the link when Bentley begun swearing at the bat. Claire smirked with a roll of her eyes while hooking a free hand through the strap of her companion's bag tugging Bentley to her as she led the way into the office.

 

It was unclear if that action was good or bad but it startled Bentley so much she yelped while dropping the bat with a clang. Startled and sent Bentley stumbling into Claire so badly that they ended up a tangled mess of limbs still standing against a surprising sturdy desk. Their faces so close they each could feel the labored breathing of the other brush against the skin of their cheeks.

 

Both Bentley and Claire didn’t seem too eager to separate, both taking note of how the other felt against them. If it hadn’t been for the sharp rapping at the window by an impertinent zombie Bentley would have fallen into flirting and innuendos, even here, among the dead and while she probably smelled of many a vile thing. Instead she yelped again and bounced away from the contact with Claire, just in time for a zombie in the room with them to moan loudly from the other end of the large office.

 

Claire drew her gun, one that her brother had insisted she have for protection, and got her head back into survival. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about how much prettier Bentley was up close like that, or how much she kinda liked that contact. Again, not the place or time. Plus, Bentley was practically a stranger, even if they were now stuck with each other.

 

Two shots rang out loudly. Bentley crouched frowning harshly, hands tightly over her ears. She didn’t like gunfire. Too loud. Only coming out of her crouched position when she watched Claire bring her weapon down. Leaning against the nearest desk, Bentley thought they had a moment of respite but, boy, she was wrong.

 

The rapping at the window to their left returned in earnest. Bently swore under her breath as she took stock of their surroundings. Yes, she knew time was limited before it broke that glass and got in but, there was little choice. She was beginning to lose hope and was gonna tell Claire to go for it just as her eyes caught it.

 

A barricade. Well, a makeshift one, at least. It'll keep zombies outside for the time being and thankfully the PD had at least let her have some disaster training.

 

"Claire, help me with that barricade to that window!" Bentley spoke clearly already standing and moving with purpose. Claire also didn’t need further invitation.

 

It took only a moment and a half for them both to get the barricade installed. Lucky too, because the moment they stepped away to admire their handiwork the glass of the window broke under the consistent assault. They stepped back, both anxious as they watched the monster reach but only meet the barricade.

 

Bentley’s shoulders were the first to sag in relief with a heavy sigh, instinctively gripping the strap of her bag and simulataneously with her other hand restingcomforting fingers at Claire’s elbow. Claire let her own breath escape in relief at the small contact.

 

"We’re okay."

 

"For now, at least... We should keep this show going before they figure out there’s unbarricaded windows to bust through." Bentley muttered to Claire patting the other woman’s arm before moving slowly away and around the clustered desks.

 

Claire did the same. Picking through things that might be useful for later. Who knew how long this trek was going to be. A flashbang, valve, and a battery were the few things she pocketed. From the shuffling noises and the occasional sigh, she could tell Bentley was doing the same. Going through things that may help keep them alive. But, Claire could only guess what this had to be doing to the other. Going through the desks and belongings of people you once cared about? People she probably said good morning to around a too big a bite of a cheap breakfast sandwich or a swig of coffee... Bentley seemed that type, to not consider her full mouth of food while being as friendly as sunshine on a spring afternoon.

 

She exited the office where the valve had been making its residence and leaned against the door frame to watch Bentley near the double barricaded doors investigating something in her hand. Claire mused over Bentley’s definitely not pretty right now profile with curls falling out begging to be brushed back.

 

Not right now and flexed her fingers before speaking.

 

"Find anything useful? I found a valve that should get us somewhere upstairs. Other useful knickknacks..." Claire watched Bentley blink at her a moment with a frown, that confused her, but then reach into her bag.

 

"A fuse for the shutter so we don’t have to crawl back into the main hall... Again. Some herbs, gunpowders, and some ammo, I think is the caliber you need..." Bentley’s face scrunched for a moment before her fingers found the plastic card. "... Though, this, I found in the art room before the accident. Dunno if there’s anything left in that locker though."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> — I am trying to get better at not having to write every little thing that happens but lmao old habits die hard —


	7. Chapter 7

Neither woman spoke much as they trekked back to the Main Hall. Thoughts stormed through Bentley making her solemn and a little less hopeful about getting out of this disaster of a city unscathed. How could she when people who were so much better at being people ended up smears on walls they trusted to keep them safe or becoming one of the monsters smearing your best friend against their own desk?

 

It didn’t make her thoughts any less heavy, trailing behind Claire to the door she had come through first time they met, to see the Lieutenant laying on that couch breathing slowly and almost too shallow. She was brought from the brink of neverending sobbing by the door swinging nearly close and Claire nearly on the otherside of the West Office, beckoning her to hurry up and follow. She gave one final look to the couch before following Claire’s steps, pointedly ignoring the wide smear of nearly dry crimson at her feet.

 

"I’m coming." was whispered being careful of more zombies around every corner.

 

Claire was patient because her own thoughts were right, it was getting to Bentley. Hopefully she could bring her fully back to the now. There was hope and they were going to survive. When Bentley finally rejoined her, Claire took one of Bentley’s hands with a reassuring squeeze.

 

"We’re going to be okay, Bentley. If we stick together and keep our heads up we’ll get out of here together."

 

Of course she saw her falling into dwelling and upsetting herself. Claire was observant, at least as far as Bentley could tell in their short makeshift friendship. Taking a deep calming breath, Bentley gave a nod that shuffled the dread away for now. There was no way to keep it all at bay but, as long as she wasn’t alone she’d be alright.

 

She gave Claire’s hand a squeeze in return and nodded towards the door.

 

"Yeah, you’re right. Things got in my head but, I’m alright. Let’s get this show on the road and over with. A-sap."

 

Claire gave her a wink, that did a butterfly thing to Bentley, as she led the way to the Safety Deposit Room. Both of them mirrored focus on their still joined hands, how good the contact felt and how it was shame that they separated once they both came into the room. 

 

Both acutely aware of the fluttering in their throats and bellies when the touching ceased.

 

Swallowing thickly and stepping away from Claire, Bentley walked around the lockers with interest. Stopping immediately at the keycard locked with a smirk. She didn’t know what it was but it looked dangerous and useful. Claire came around moments later taking the beast from the cabinet with her own astonishment in tow.

 

"It’s a grenade launcher!" Excitement was in her proclamation and Bentley just stared for a moment gaping at both Claire and the weapon.

 

"Okay, first, WHAT THE SHIT, a grenade launcher? We’re keeping that because who knows what’s ahead of us. Next thing—" Bentley made a show of checking out Claire who turned red underneath Bentley’s appreciative gaze. "You look good in grenade launcher, I must say."

 

Both women chuckled and sighed as they continued on, Bentley to the kiosk with a frown at the missing keys.

 

"There was a memo when I first went through that mentioned that there was spare parts but someone hid them?" Claire said at her side her own frustration palpable.

 

Bentley merely shrugged and fished out a pen from her bag. "Of course someone hid them. With Irons going barricade crazy, locking doors left and right, and sequestering supplies behind an unreachable barricade? It doesn’t surprise me... But, we don’t need the parts. Just go read me numbers off the lockers you didn’t reach, the pen will get these missing keys just fine." She gave a wink as Claire grinned in return. "I know I saw what looked suspiciously like ammo for your new toy in one of them."

 

In a few minutes they had the rest of the lockers open and sorting through things they needed. Both organized Bentley’s bag for access to necessities while also adjusting it so Bentley herself wasn’t uncomfortable or that it didn’t make noise when they moved.

 

Back into the dimly lit hall, one Bentley had walked everyday towards her office, they walked towards the stairs. It was near quiet nay the storm that shook the glass in their panes and the occasional deep rumble of thunder. Bentley would have wished to be back in bed at that moment a zombie banged against the barricaded window once again startling both of them.

 

Startling Bentley so bad she yelped like she had been struck. "Shit! Must they do that?" She muttered leading the way up the stairs to the second floor, once again ignoring the fresh coat of blo— paint, yes, paint haphazardly smeared all over the floor and walls.

 

Claire stifled a laugh, which Bentley huffed at, and shrugged taking the lead from Bentley. "He got me the same way my initial trip through these halls..."

 

She got to the door to the Shower Room and kept it open for Bentley. "The valve I found should let us move onwards..." Claire trailed off as Bentley had gone stock still staring at the hissing pipe and broken wall with a deep frown.

 

"Bentley? What’s up?"

 

Bentley turned slowly back to Claire with outright fear, that also struck her still, and motioned slowly to the scene in front of them. "Claire, something busted these walls... Both are reinforced stone masonry that’re at least a foot thick!"

 

Now, fear was beginning to trickle like cold water down her neck into Claire’s being. She was seeing now what Bentley meant, she hadn’t thought much of it initially, so she gave a half hearted shrug at the pipes. "I just thought it was the pipes busting, ya know?" Her voice shook already knowing Bentley was right.

 

Something has busted through those walls like the kool-aid man.

 

"The only thing I’ll give to Irons is that he did make sure both the plumbing and electrical were modern and safe. Plus, it’s fall, it’s only slightly chilly with a chance of an constant onslaught of wind and rain." Bentley swallowed her fear the best she can but, her hands still shook and the lump in her throat made it increasingly difficult to do so.

 

Claire was in better shape, she could compartmentalize the fear and dread far better than Bentley. The realization that there was something big in the building and strong enough to bust through cinder block like tissue paper wasn’t an easy thing to swallow but, they had to. Survival meant they had to keep moving and that meant they had to power through the fear.

 

"I was being naively hopeful on purpose because all of this? It’s completely wild." Claire spoke softly as she put that valve she found to use, ceasing the hissing pressured steam immediately. "It’s easier to take in a busted pipe ruining a wall than, you know, a zombie doing this."

 

Nothing was said but a nod in agreement. You have to be stupidly hopeful right now, Bentley thinks but doesn’t say. This isn’t a situation that you’ll survive without an over abundance of hope. Claire’s seemed to flow endlessly in the form of focused determination that trickled onto Bentley. Even as they maneuvered around broken wall and tile.

 

They both gave the lifeless slumped body on the bench a wide berth as they made their way silently to the door leading onwards, Claire leading the way. On the otherside of said door they were assaulted at once by the storm raging through broken windows and despite the winds whipping their hair and rain soaking their clothes they both could smell blood.

 

Bentley’s stomach churned as she gently closed the door behind her. A lull in the storm sent the churning to a fearful stillness then to a pit as the noise filled the room.

 

A soft chittering and clicking.

 

Both women’s attention snapped directly to the source.

 

At the ceiling.

 

Speechless they looked to each other and then back to the creature just in time for it to let out an ear splitting scream, just for it fling some kind of appendage out of it’s body to drag a body from the floor for an elevated snack.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m changing certain things because somethings are just gameplay tediousness.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first multi-chapter fic. I'm learning how to do this on the wing.


End file.
